The Take-out

Setting: Paradise.

I had a love--two, in fact. Once upon a time, I called them mine. I consider it best to confess the oldest one first.

I was always irrevocably, absolutely in love with a certain thing. I loved it so, I wondered if some psychological break occurred in early childhood, wondered if the sight of a crude, humongous, dark, rich chocolate cake of all cakes I'd seen in a movie once had caused the love I felt. All I know is I realized soon as I saw that kid eating the rugged dream cake, I understood on that day my first love was chocolate.

Having always been a "fat person", coupled up with never having known my birth parents, maybe I felt I was entitled to plenty of chocolate, and often. All I knew was chocolate reigned as my king among all the naughty foods that topped my legendary bad eating habits list.

Presently, knowing myself and everything as I am known, I have the wisdom to reflect. I wouldn't have had a love in the world for chocolate if only I'd known the struggle. Had I really known how disgusting it is to make the natural plant cacao into chocolate, I would have ran from it! When I say the process is disgusting, I mean it sounds and looks disgusting--taking juicy, white wormy-looking pieces out of a big pod, letting them rot and ferment a bit, exposing the cacao, baking, shelling, powdering, then sweetening it? That would have been a big yuck no for me.

My life might have taken a different path if only I had known.

My "brown heaven", as I called it, made me think of things to do with it no one had ever done before--in fact, once, when I was without ingredients for favorite recipes, I fantasized about taking a spoon, mirror, a knife, and a roll of dollar bill to sniff up cocoa powder like cocaine. Thank goodness I laughed that moment away, and had the sense to add sugar and eat it with a spoon in a bit of evaporated milk.

I even imagined I had a religious reason for consuming my brown heaven. I found cocoa powder to be good for the body according to the internet, because it slowed down the processing of sugar in the body, was filled with antioxidants, and possibly prevented cancer. Coupled with these "facts" (or so I hoped they were fact) cocoa powder tasted great sprinkled on vanilla ice cream; Therefore, I sanctimoniously prided myself on eating my ice cream with it because it somehow "cut the sugar in half" and so much more, so it was great to eat--anytime.

Well, as you might know by now, I was in a lot of denial. My body had begun to show it, too. I was topping the scales at almost 250, which was not good for five-feet-nothing.

Despite it all, however, my second love seemed not to mind. Oh my love, my sweet guy. He was definitely the one for me.

His name was Kerry Dale Knight, and I had loved him almost forever--only not enough to give up chocolate as my number one.

"Berry", he would always say, his nickname for me which made my name, Berenthia Holden, sound so beautiful, "You are my Berry." I love you just as you are. His sweet words, and that look in his gorgeous brown eyes made my Kerry and brown heaven quite enough for me. I felt so happy when he would say that, it comforted me and made me feel a safety I had never known.

Kerry, chocolate, and I had gone to grade school, college, and had become teachers at the same school. What a love affair! Kerry, Berry, and chocolate was a band of three most of the time. In fact, I knew with all my heart that "KBC" would make it down the aisle one day, and there was no doubt in my mind it would happen. Truly, it was as if we knew each other inside out.

Yet, we did not, did we?

My birthday was a hot July. Kerry had planned a celebration just as he and I liked it--no guests, except my fluffy dog, Buffey. A quiet evening with the sound of romantic music playing, candles, Asian take-out, and the best chocolate cake in the world from Tennery's downtown was the ideal, and we'd done it our way for years.

I remember Kerry, tall, his body in superb shape, looking so handsomely excited that evening as he sang to me. His excitement grew as we ate steaming pepper steak with the best stir fry, fried rice, and egg rolls on the west side, mingled between chilled soft drinks and wine. I was in my heavens.

When it was cake time. I looked into the soft pink box at my cake for the first time. Immediately, I felt disappointed.

Not only was the cake not from Tennery's, but there was only one slice, albeit a generous piece of dark paradise. The single piece was accompanied by two tart berries. From the moment I saw it, I believe I knew the reason why Kerry had seemed anxious.

"Berry," he almost whispered with desperation, "Let's--try this. Just one piece. I--I won't even eat one."

I was hurt, and spoke directly, softly. "You think I've gotten too big--"

"Honey baby--I just think that now is a good time to stop--I mean, slow down."

I didn't respond to him after he said those words. I felt utterly crushed. But I battled on like a good addict. I took on the cake. I ate quietly. For once, my favorite love, my first love, tasted like wet, super sweet black mold in my mournful mouth. I washed it down with a big swig of soda and wine.

"So sorry, sweetheart," I was hearing Kerry say.

"No--um--maybe you--you--you're right, "I was trying to say, while experiencing the uneasy feeling that something terrible was happening inside my being. Within moments, I began to tremble, then saw myself in a surreal second, as if I was on a mountaintop high as Everest, about to fall off. But I could not move, despite my anxious terror that made me feel my heart was trying to stop beating.

Instantly, I remembered the feeling I'd experienced years ago, and knew what was happening. Only one thing made me feel that way--a sugar substitute to which I knew I was deathly allergic--a fact which my love, Kerry Dale Knight and I knew only too well.

"Ker-Ker-" Someone was speaking. Was it me? I felt my body slump over, barely seeing anything now. But I could hear him.

"I can't do this anymore," Kerry said, his voice almost sympathetic, but stony, too controlled and light. "Goodbye, Berenthia. I tried--"

The darkness of death took my last conscious breath.